


Let Me Know

by Byutsuno



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Gen, commitment issues, gender neutral reader, i feel so awkward writing these ghirghghr, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 07:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11286600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byutsuno/pseuds/Byutsuno
Summary: When Asra invites you out on the roof of the shop for a few drinks, you can tell something is wrong. Noticing something's amiss is easy, getting Asra to open up about it...





	Let Me Know

**Author's Note:**

> arak is an arabian alcoholic drink!

The night breeze was cool and tickled my skin with fringes of dust. I wiped my mouth with the back of my fist and looked out over the dimming city lights. It was late in the night. Time for shops to close up and for people to go to sleep. I lifted my chin towards the stars. The sun would rise soon, introducing a new dawn and a new day. It was odd. Usually Asra would be tucked away in his silk blankets by now, he of all loved his beauty sleep, yet he had brought me out onto the roof of our shack, a large bottle of arak in hand. 

I wasn’t sure if it was the pull of the alcoholic drink we had been passing back and forth that made my sense of time seem fuzzy or the thick silence between us that seemed to drag on for hours. Either way, I felt the need to speak up because, knowing Asra, he never would. 

"Master...?" I asked hesitantly. He was sitting right beside me but he seemed distances away. He was the one who asked me if I wanted to step out for a bit yet he seemed lost in thought. The bottle was held tight in those hands of his. Those long, elegantly tanned fingers. I had to force my eyes away from the hungering sight. After all, he was my... "Master?"

"Master this, master that. I told you to call me Asra!" He spoke with a slur. He was clearly drunk. His cheeks were a cute hue of pink and his eyes seemed just bit too cloudy for soberness. 

I had never seen him like this. It was a bit scary, really; not knowing what such a powerful person was thinking. What he could do next. Not that sober Asra was any more predictable. At least then I knew he was thinking somewhat clearly. 

"Mas- I mean...Asra... Are you okay?" I was almost afraid to ask, scared of bringing up something painful that had happened when I wasn’t around. He never shared his past with me despite my position. We have been living together for years. I was his apprentice. Yet it felt as if I was a stranger in my own home. 

His eyes seemed to flicker between me and the few town lights still sparkling in the distance. If I didn't know him better he seemed to look at the distance between us and the ground longingly. Suddenly, with the speed of a man with no fear, he jumped to his feet and flashed me a smile. 

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" With a cheeky smirk, he winked at me. "Are you worried about me?" I rolled my eyes. 

"If something happens to you, I have to run the business all by myself." I replied, playing along with the faux lovehate relationship we had. I felt as if it was more love and fear on my part. Fear of his safety. Fear of all the secrets we were both guilty of keeping. Fear of something more. 

He laughed bitterly, letting it die out awkwardly. He took a hard swig from the bottle he was white-knuckling. "Yeah..." His gaze was distant. "But I've trained you well, even without me you'll do just fine." 

"Oh, come on, you know that's not true." I nudged Asra in the leg. "What would I do without your cheesy jokes to keep our customers coming back for more?" 

"I think we both know they're not attracted to my jokes." 

We shared a laugh, mine a little more genuine then his. I watched him with a tinge of guilt as he finished off the bottle of arak. He shook the last drops out onto his tongue and sighed deeply, his gaze lingering on the glass bottle. In a hot flash of impulsivity, Asra raised the bottle above his head and threw it out over the edge of the roof.   
He teetered and swayed, I feared he would go flying with it. I jumped up and grabbed onto him tightly, hands shaking as they gripped his baggy shirt desperately. My voice was shrill like the sound of glass shattering beneath us. “Master!” 

“Asra!” He corrected me sternly, his hands on my wrists. His hands were still cold from holding the sweaty bottle and the pure energy radiating from him was ricocheting off of the many trees and buildings around us. He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. “I told you...call me Asra.” 

I couldn’t see his face from where I stood yet I already knew what it looked like. His ash white hair blew in the night’s winds and if my heart wasn’t beating so hard maybe, just maybe, I would have been able to hear the sniffle that accompanied the single, gem-like tear that rolled down his cheek. 

“...Asra…” I hated how I sounded when I called his name, so fragile. My body felt numb, a void opening in my chest. Something was wrong, I could feel it within him. 

In a swirl of emotional blockage, Asra spun me around, intertwining our fingers and guiding me with a tipsy spring in his step. The clunk, clunk, clunk of his shoes against the wooden roof panels were uneven and heavy. It lacked the usual grace he carried around with him. The air of knowing what he was doing even when he didn’t have a clue. The only thing that kept him confident in himself, the only thing that kept him going when everything else seemed to fail him. 

“Asra-” 

“What if you had to leave.” 

“...What?” My face crumpled into one of confusion. His smile was plastic and unnerving. The kind he gave to customers he didn't particularly like. But I wasn't a customer. 

“What if today was your last day with someone you loved and you had to leave.” He spun me around a few more times before leading me into a deep dip. “What would you do?” 

I knew this game he was playing, I knew it well. “Where am I going?” 

“...You don’t know. But you need to go.” 

I let Asra hold my weight as I searched his eyes. They were blank and cold like stone. Amethyst. I was trying to find a hint, maybe a cry for help, hidden within those captivating jewels. In a split second, I caught a look of sorrow just before he pulled me back up to my feet, our fingers still locked together. My hands were starting to sweat and my heart was beating dangerously fast. I wondered if he could hear it, if he could feel it through the palms of my hands. 

I could tell my expression wasn’t a nice one. I felt my lips slip into a scowl and wanted nothing more than to hug Asra and tell him not to leave. I knew it wasn’t ‘business’ or whatever bullshit excuse he came up with next. I knew it all...or wish I did anyways. I wish I knew where he went, why he left, when he would come back. 

Perhaps it was the taste of arak still drifting over my mind, clogging and drowning my common sense. Maybe it was human desire. Or maybe it was just Asra's terrible influence on me. Whatever it was, it pushed me, shoved me forwards hard, until my lips touched his. It started as a peck, a gentle, innocent, spur of the moment touch until Asra brought his hand to rest on my neck. He weaved his dark fingers into my hair and pulled me closer. I saw stars behind my eyelids, beautiful sparkles of white and gold. I could taste the alcohol on his breath and I’m sure he could taste it on mine too. Neither of us seemed to care. 

I was the first to pull away, caught up in the afterglow, but Asra was wasted no time in tearing his hands away. He looked panicked, regret splattered across his face and tears welling in his eyes. My heart sunk. 

“Asra, I’m sorry, I-.” 

Asra turned away, storming over to the door leading to the attic of our shack. Everything came crashing down onto my shoulders like a terrible, horrible weight. I felt like Atlas holding the sky by Zeus' command to prevent everything from falling apart. My heart transitioned from not beating at all to burning all the blood in my body in a fiery blaze. My throat felt dry, my eyes were starting to burn, and my voice cracked as I called out his name again and again. 

“Asra… Asra, don’t go! Please!” My knees were weak. I felt immobilised. “Asra!” 

He turned back just before he stepped back down into the shack, our eyes meeting. His purple orbs were dark and teary. He slammed the door shut behind him without a word. I fell to my knees on top of it. The symbol of his magic lightened the door and wouldn’t budge no matter how hard I tugged on the rusty handle. I banged on the wooden door, calling out his name until my own sobs choked me out. 

“Please…” I crumbled into a pathetic heap. “Please... Don't leave me...!”


End file.
